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jrob64 · 2 hours ago

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Girls' Trip Fairytale Ending Marta's Deleted Scenes--Chapter 1 of 5

A/N: Happy Birthday Marta (@snowbellewells)! This gift is soooooooo long in coming! For those who may not remember, this was originally intended to be a gift for Marta’s last birthday a year ago. A couple of years ago, I wrote a group birthday fic for @jrob64, @kmomof4 and @snowbellewells called The Girls’ Trip Fairytale Ending. Brief reminder of that fic for those who have slept since reading it (which should be all of you. Not sleeping for like 2 years is bad for your health!): The 4 of us have been taking girls’ trips every year for the past 3 or 4 years. The year I wrote the fic, we had taken our trip in Pigeon Forge. In my fic, the author (Isaac) came to the cabin where we were staying on the last day of our trip and offered us a gift–each of us could go into the storybook and fix a part of OUAT we wanted to fix. As will surprise exactly NO ONE who knows her, Marta chose to go back and stop Regina from killing Graham. At the end of each person’s story, I gave a quick synopsis of what happened afterward–i.e. How the rest of the show would have been different if the change had happened. Okay, fast forward to Marta’s last birthday. My gift for her was to write a few “deleted scenes” from that synopsis section. She got to choose what she wanted to see. Marta gave me 5 prompts, and so here we are! This fic will have 5 chapters; each following one of her prompts. Enjoy!

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Chapter 1

Prompt: Having him still be alive in season 2–because magic? I didn’t really bother with how or why there - and he and Emma would still work at the sheriff station together. Anyway, he would believe her about Tamara being “fishy” and not doubt her gut and her superpower with people. He’d help her and Henry surveil her and catch her and Greg in their plotting before Henry gets taken.

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Emma charged into the bullpen, slumped into her chair and started swiveling back and forth, her face like a thundercloud.

“Uh oh,” Graham said, trying not to smile at the fact that she looked just like a disgruntled five year old. “Bad day?”

“More like bad month, or bad year, or bad….who even knows? Nothing ever seems to go right in this town,” she groused.

Graham set down the case file he’d been perusing and took a seat on the edge of her desk. “Anything you want to talk about?”

She was quiet for a moment, and then sighed. “Tamara.”

“Ah,” he said carefully, not exactly surprised at the answer.

She groaned loudly. “Not you too!”

He raised his hands in surrender. “I’m not saying anything. I’m here to be a sounding board.”

She gave him a long, assessing look, one that Graham was very familiar with, one that was trying to determine whether and how much he was trying to b.s. her. Finally she sighed again, and her face cleared…a little. “Fine. It’s just…”

“It’s just…?” he prompted when she didn’t continue.

“No one will listen to me!” she burst out. “Everyone thinks I’m jealous or whatever over Neal and Tamara. Everyone thinks this is some sort of star-crossed lovers thing. Everyone is SO sure they know what I feel and what should happen, and then Henry WANTS it to be true, and it’s just. No one will listen!”

Whatever amusement Graham had initially felt at her petulance upon entering the station evaporated at the raw pain and frustration in her tone. He got up, pulled his chair next to hers and sat. “I’m listening,” he said simply. “Why don’t you tell me how you feel about Neal coming back into your life.”

She turned away, looking sightlessly out the window for a moment before turning back to him, and the stark pain in her eyes nearly undid him.

“You know the basics of what Neal did to me,” she started.

He nodded. He’d pried the bare bones of the story out of her when she’d returned with Neal a week ago.

“What I didn’t say,” she said, “is that it destroyed me. His betrayal hurt, of course, but then….then when I had to give my baby away, when I couldn’t even let myself hold him, because then I was afraid I’d never let him go….something inside me died that day.”

Graham sucked in a breath at the stark agony in her tone.

“I got out of the slammer, and the only thing, the ONLY thing that kept me going was the thought that my kid had a chance at a better life. Well, that, and the stupid, naive thought that MAYBE Neal was waiting for me in Tallahassee.”

“So you went there after you were released?” he asked

She nodded. “Stayed there two freaking years waiting for him,” she answered, “and he never came. Never called. Never wrote. Never gave me a second thought. And with that, the last bit of hope and optimism died inside me. The first few months after I gave up…”

She shuddered. “Well, let’s just say, I barely cared whether I lived or died.”

Graham felt the anger bubble up inside him, wanting nothing more than to beat Neal senseless for the pain he’d cause. Then maybe he’d sweettalk Ruby into wolfing out and eating the worthless excuse for a man.

“So after all of that….yeah,” she went on. “Seeing Neal again, doesn’t exactly inspire the warm fuzzies. I mean….he was my first love. There’s probably going to always be a part of me that loves him…that abandoned teenager who’d never had anyone to love her, but….Getting back together with him? I really don’t see that happening.”

Graham reached over and took her hand. “If your parents knew all of this….”

“My dad would probably punch him in the face,” she said with a grin. “Repeatedly.”

“And I’d be right there with him,” Graham said determinedly.

“I appreciate that,” Emma said, and then sighed. “I can’t tell them, though. They’re Snow White and Prince Charming. Fairytale love story of all fairytale love stories. They aren’t going to understand this. They aren’t going to understand that love….well, it’s just not in the cards for me. That chapter of my life is closed. And locked. And barricaded.”

Graham wasn’t so sure about that. She’d talked–a lot–about a certain Captain Hook ever since she’d gotten back from the Enchanted Forest. About how annoying he was. How frustrating. How much she hated his stupid expressive eyebrows and his hot as hell face. How she hated his smirk and the sexy way he bandaged her hand. How he was nothing but a massive pain in her butt and she hoped he’d stay away and never come back.

Graham was fairly certain he’d never seen someone for which “Methinks the lady doth protest too much” applied more.

But he was also fairly certain she wasn’t ready to confront that particular issue yet. Best not bring it up yet.

“For what it’s worth, I believe you,” Graham said. “I believe you aren’t jealous and that you aren’t subconsciously trying to get him back.”

“Thank you!” she said. “That means a lot, Graham, it really does….but that’s not the only reason I’m so damn frustrated with EVERYONE dismissing me.”

“So what is?’

“Tamara,” she said simply. “Graham, there’s something fishy about her. Everytime I’m in the same room as she is…my superpower just about screams at me.”

“What do you think she’s lying about?” He asked simply.

She looked surprised for a second. “Wait, you believe me? Just like that?”

“Emma,” he said, “I’ve had enough experience with your superpower to know it works. If you think something’s off, something’s off.”

She gave him a brilliant smile–one that probably would have had his heart racing back before the curse when he’d thought he was falling for her, back before he and Ruby had become, well, whatever they were now.

“I don’t know,” Emma said after a moment. “It’s just a feeling. Nothing we could arrest her on or anything, but….don’t you think it’s weird that she showed up just days after that Greg guy did? No outsiders in 28 years and then *poof* two in the space of a week? I mean, I know she’s Neal’s fiance and everything, but something about that feels weird. And then there’s that run in I had with her in Granny’s.”

“What happened in Granny’s?”

“So I accidentally bumped into her, and she dropped her bag,” Emma said. “I bent down to help her pick it up, and I saw this list she was making. She was listing town residents and who they were back in the Enchanted Forest. Why is she making a list? What is she trying to do with it? Every time I mention it to someone else, they just…dismiss it out of hand. Insist she’s just trying to wrap her head around the whole fairy tale thing, but it just…..it feels fishy. I don’t know how else to say it.”

Graham’s instincts kicked in. “I think you’re right. I think she’s not completely on the up and up.”

“So what do we do about it?” Emma asked.

Graham thought for a moment. “Nothing yet. If we’re going to nab her, it has to be by the book. We need actual evidence, an actual crime, something. I say, for now, we simply keep up surveillance. I’ll have Ruby help us, keep an ear open for anything off.”

Emma nodded, before getting to her feet. “I’d better get back to patrolling. But Graham…”

“Yeah?” he asked.

She reached over and took his hand. “Thanks. For everything. If I didn’t have someone around to talk to like this….”

He smiled, pressing her hand before letting her go. “Don’t mention it. What are friends for?”

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Notes:

–In case you didn’t read Marta’s chapter of the Girls’ Trip fic, here’s a quick synopsis of how the story changed after Regina DIDN’T crush Graham’s heart:

Graham and Emma do have their kiss at the sheriff’s station, and he does “wake up”. Him raving about remembering everything kind of freaks her out, and she runs away. Marta has a talk with Emma the next morning, and during that talk, Emma realizes she does care for Graham but isn’t in love with him. Marta reassures her that before she knows it she will indeed find love. Emma and Graham continue as good friends.

Regina, angry with being thwarted and concerned with how much of the truth Graham might know, convinces the town that Graham suffered a mental break and was no longer fit for duties as sheriff. She had him committed to the Storybrooke mental asylum in the hospital basement

The rest of season 1 happens the same as canon. After the curse, Graham is freed from the mental hospital, teams up with Ruby to head the task force to reunite people with their missing loved ones. This makes them close, and they start dating.

Through the seasons, Graham continues to help the heroes as various villains show up and are then defeated. Eventually, he and Ruby decide to pull back from the craziness and enjoy their life together, even as the world continues to crash around them.

–The main idea of this particular chapter: However much you hate Neal? It’s not enough.

#girls' trip fairytale ending #deleted scenes #birthday fics #happy birthday marta!!#whimsicallyenchantedrose #OUAT fanfic

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jrob64 · 4 days ago

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~Finished Fic~ Birthday Fic for @ohmakemeahercules: "Heart to Hearts"

It's taken me longer than I had hoped, but here at last is the finished birthday gift you were promised, @ohmakemeahercules!! I hope all the days since your actual birthday have been good ones, and I hope you will enjoy the rest of this story...

Also available on AO3 if you would prefer to read it there

Summary: While Emma is expecting their first child, Killian confides his doubts and fears to Belle. After the long and dark path he has travelled, is he worthy of the life he has found? How can he be the father their child deserves? And what if something goes wrong? His newest, but also dearest, friend reassures him. When she learns what her husband has been suffering alone, Emma does too - in her own inimitable way.

Smiling to himself as he turned back to the metal cart neatly filled with books awaiting return to their places in the library stacks, Killian Jones listened to Belle’s gentle tones as she greeted newcomers to the Storybrooke library, welcoming them in and directing them to the section they were seeking. He couldn’t help thinking once again of the marvel that was modern air conditioning; he could stand here and enjoy the sun beaming in from the windows overhead without breaking into the uncomfortable and sticky sweat he would have on the seas or in the forests of his former realm. There was an element of freedom and adventure that he might idly miss from time to time the longer he dwelt in the Land Without Magic, but making a life with his True Love, a son he loved as his very own, and adopted extended family and friends (and so many mind-boggling conveniences) easily outweighed anything he might miss for brief moments.

He didn’t need to see the petite, brunette librarian to know that a wide smile and sparkling eyes caused her entire face to glow with the excitement of leading yet another denizen of their small hamlet to the perfect new read to satisfy their imagination. Belle was the most devoted bibliophile Killian had ever encountered in his long and wide-ranging life (and he had once believed his older brother would be hard to top on that score). Plus, her caring heart and giving nature made her a natural to share that love with every other person she could reach. Smirking to himself that she might be lost to him for some time, engaged in showing off their newest selections and some of her preferred classics to an eager audience, Killian turned back to lift the next few hardback tomes from their place on the cart, studying their spines to be certain he placed them correctly on the shelves once more.

Gradually, as the stacks around him regained their peaceful quiet, Killian’s mind drifted back to the concerns he had been mulling before meeting his friend at the library doors that morning. If he were honest, the lingering worries never retreated far, simply crouched in the back corners of his mind like some beast waiting to pounce in a vulnerable moment. Oh, he was happy - more so than he had ever dared to hope or even envision for himself - but for all his happiness and fulfillment these days, he was dogged by the fear that he wasn’t worthy of such joy. Instead, he found himself waiting for all his treasures to be snatched away; the haunting refrain that warned “Villains don’t get happy endings” was never far from repeating in his brain. The images that accompanied such fears sometimes drove sleep from him, even as he held a slumbering Emma close in his arms in the home they had made a safe haven together. One such nightmare flashed across his inner eye even as he stretched to place a weathered volume on the top shelf - the image of Henry, marked for the Underworld at his own bidding - causing him to flinch away and drop the leatherbound book on the floor at his feet.

Cursing to himself, Killian bent to retrieve the aged manual - on navigation of all things, his brow furrowing at the irony - and looking it over conscientiously. He and Belle may have long since put their troubled past behind them and become dear friends - almost kindred spirits, now that their opposing feelings about her estranged husband no longer stood between them - but she would still verbally flay him if he carelessly damaged a rare and irreplaceable book.

Bowing his head for a moment, Killian sifted frustrated fingers through his hair with a quick, impatient gesture, before clutching the metal of the book cart tightly and holding on as he forced several deep, cleansing breaths before carrying on with his task. He even screwed his eyes shut tightly in an attempt to blank everything from his mind and start fresh. Of course, he had also assumed he was still alone in the few stolen vulnerable moments.

He found that was not the case as he raised his head to see Belle standing at the end of the row, her brow crinkled with concern and her eyes wide with sympathy. She didn’t speak, kindly holdng her tongue rather than immediately launching into saccharine comfort and the attempts at hopeful advice that he could almost hear his well-intentioned mother-in-law offering in Belle’s place. Sighing, Killian shook his head in disgust at his own display out in the open, that he couldn’t have just held it in a bit longer.

While Belle might not be one for idle chatter or offering empty platitudes, she was a kind (and stubborn) enough not to let what she had witnessed go undiscussed either. Her erstwhile friend was clearly struggling with something, and Killian knew she would hold on like a bulldog until he unburdened himself.

He stood straighter and scratched behind his ear with a bit of a sheepish grin. “Quiet civilian life must be getting to me, love,” he attempted to distract her jokingly. “I didn’t even hear you coming.”

Belle didn’t humor his attempt with a response. Instead she came forward wordlessly, until she stood right before him, despite still having to peer upwards to look him directly in the face, even with her high heels. She might be tiny, but she wasn’t going to give him an inch; he could see that already.

Killian hoped those patrons she had welcomed earlier had already found their books, been checked out, and were gone, because he honestly hoped they were alone if he were going to cave this easily. As well as searching his weary face, her small, delicate hand came to rest atop his, gently squeezing with friendly concern until he released the metal handle he had been gripping and returned the soft pressure.

Almost as though she could sense him trying to rebuild his defenses, Belle shook her head, angled a knowingly quirked brow at him and pushed forward. Not that it would take as much prodding as he would wish, Killian admitted to himself grudgingly; the weight on his mind was reaching a point that it had to go somewhere.

“Come now,” her accented tone poked at the cracking dam he was barely holding together, “we both know those Captain’s instincts are still intact. You have something else on your mind, Killian. That’s plain to see. Is there anything I can do?”

He shook his head in denial, but it wouldn’t have even convinced Mr. Smee, much less the brilliant and astute librarian before him. Killian dropped his gaze to the spines of the books again instead, avoiding her incisive stare.

“Come now,” Belle persisted, her voice taking on just a note of urgency as she shifted back into his line of sight, pulling the book cart away from him slightly and forcing him to look up once more. “Are we friends, or aren’t we? You gave me your ship as a place to stay when I left Rumple. You and Emma both have been lifesavers and so supportive as I’ve struck out on my own. We can talk about tea flavors, and the Dewey decimal system, how to work the computers, and the merits of Byron over Keats, but we can’t discuss what really matters?”

Killian blew out a harsh breath, his shoulders slumping as he slowly accepted that he was going to allow her to wheedle every one of his fears and concerns out of hiding. Part of him was almost relieved, even as the rest of him feared what Belle would think of his weakness, and what he would do once it had all been spoken aloud. Would putting words to the visions that dogged him bring them fully into reality?

“Killian,” Belle urged once more, her eyes so earnest and caring, “give me a chance to try to help you, to be there for you now, like you’ve done for me.”

And then Killian simply let the tension go in a rush. Looking into the concerned face of a friend who truly cared, and might even be able to shed some light on the situation, he finally conceded, with an almost whispered, “Aye, if you wish, lass.”

Nodding smartly, Belle turned, pulling him along back to the circulation desk and indicating he sit on one of the two tall stools behind it. Killian did so without argument, watching her cross the large room with heels click-clacking on the wood floor to close the library early for lunch. Once she returned, rounding the counter to join him, she gave him a sweet, reassuring pat on the shoulder and moved toward the Keurig she kept for brewing hot water. “I think this might call for some tea, don’t you?” she soothed.

Killian swallowed around the lump in his throat and simply nodded in agreement. Watching her, he marveled - not for the first time - how she moved so gracefully while balancing perched on such tall splindly heels, but she seemed to do so without thought, second nature.

Soon, Belle was bringing two steaming mugs over and perching like a delicate bird on the stool beside him. She looked to him as he wrapped a hand around the warmly comforting ceramic, but didn’t rush him, merely waited patiently.

And whether it was the pure and simple need for release, or Belle’s inherent goodness inspiring trust, Killian finally began to speak. Letting out a long gust of air, his words flowed quickly after. “I don’t want to complain - I have nothing to complain about. In truth, my life is so much more than a former pirate - a villain - like me could ever hope to deserve.” He paused here, intense blue eyes beseeching her to understand that point before he went any further.

Belle nodded, taking a tiny sip from her mug and waiting for him to continue.

At least somewhat reassured, his words continued to pour from trembling lips, a torrent loosed at long last. “Knowing my unworthiness of a True Love and such wonderful family and friends - “ he saw Belle’s mouth open as if to argue in his defense, but hurried on, stopping her. “No, don’t deny it. I know that to be true. Regardless, it all seemed too good to last… as if it could vanish at any moment. And it would serve me right, I suppose, to lose it all, after some of the wicked things I’ve done. But I couldn’t bear to have something happen to them… those I love… Henry… Emma.”

The librarian’s eyes welled with unshed tears, hurting for this man who had once been a vengeful adversary but now counted as one of her dearest friends. She understood his concern immediately - though she hardly agreed with his self-assessment - and her tender heart ached for the torment he was putting himself through.

A sad little quirk of her lips turned up the top corner of her mouth as she replied, “You’re so much worthier of happiness than you ever give yourself credit for, Killian. I can’t think of anyone who has done more to right the wrongs of their past.”

They sat together in silence for several lingering moments, sipping their tea and each perhaps thinking on previous mistakes. Belle wanted to think Killian’s lack of argument against her words might mean he was taking them to heart, but she also knew his self-recrimination and guilt ran deep. This wasn’t the first time she had tried to convince him that the changes he’d made - for Emma, but also for himself, to be the man he wanted to be at heart - mattered.

When it seemed as though Killian was not preparing to speak further, she couldn’t help adding, “I often felt Rumple feared the same things - that anything good would be snatched away from him.” She met Killian’s eye with a rueful expression, before her gaze fell once more to her hands wrapped around her drink. “Unfortunately, rather than showing his care and concern as you do, he held tighter to his power in hopes of keeping his treasures, and ended up losing them anyway.”

Killian gave her his own rather broken smile while reaching out to take one of her hands with the same friendly press of fingers she had offered him. He knew it was far from easy for Belle to speak of her own Love’s failings to place people above his quest for strength and control. She rarely brought up the man for whom she had sacrificed so much - only to find her faith misplaced horribly in the end - and the fact that she would do so to show how much she did understand his fear spoke volumes in itself.

“You are indeed a rare treasure, lass,” Killian murmured, hoping that she would take him at his word. Belle deserved so much more than the heartache his old foe had given her time and again. “The Crocodile must surely be kicking himself now, having only that dagger to hold and having lost you.”

They settled into a more comfortable calm for a few moments, nursing their wounds and finishing their rapidly cooling tea. In some small way, just voicing some of his concerns had made Killian feel a bit better; perhaps he might do well to continue, now that he had started.

“Well, though I don’t claim to treasure anything more than Emma, that hardly means I can shield her from all ills or harm. Too much has happened for me to feel at all secure in her permanent safety. More to the point, she is nearly seven months along in her pregnancy. And while I realize that this modern world boasts much progress toward the health and comfort of expectant mothers, I cannot help but fear something might go wrong. I already love our little one beyond reason, even without yet meeting her, and I know there would be no surviving either her or Emma’s loss.”

Belle merely twined her fingers with his at that, holding tighter in solidarity. There weren’t any perfect words for that particular fear; only time would bear it out. Modern medicine was truly marvelous compared to what they had once known in the Enchanted Forest, but even so, there were no guarantees when it came to labor and delivery. It was a much safer bet, but still not without risk.

For his part, Killian no longer seemed to need further prompting. He had lanced the wound, so to speak, and seemed determined to have it all out.

His voice dropped even lower as he voiced one last concern, enough so that Belle had to lean in further to hear. “And even if all goes as planned, if our little lass is born hale and hearty, and Emma is perfectly well, how can I possibly be the father she will need? My own father was far from a good example. And though I love Henry dearly, and have done my best by him as he has allowed me to be a surrogate in Bae’s stead, he was already such a good lad that I doubt my dubious influence could have done him much harm. The gift of having a family, of a place to belong, is a precious one. One that can be all too fleeting. I wish to be a father that a true Prince or Princess deserve, and... I just do not know that I am…” The last part went almost unheard as it escaped on a breath of near-defeat.

But Belle was having none of that. Where she had been coaxing and gentle, needing to be certain she understood his crisis and wanting to help, she sat up straight abruptly, her manner suddenly morphing into something much more forceful. She could sympathize with his self-doubt, certainly, but he also had to be snapped from its grip.

“Killian Jones! You listen to me!” she bristled, nearly scolding him with her intensity. “That is the furthest thing from the truth. In fact I’m quite certain you are the only person in this town - much less of those who know you well - who would speak of you so harshly. And if you think I’m only attempting to make you feel better or simply being nice,” she shook her head so rapidly that her brown locks swung out in all directions before her eyes narrowed to bore into him, “well, think again! You forget that I once knew just how cold and single-minded your revenge had made you. We’ve quite the speckled past you and I, Killian, so much so that I once accused your heart of being rotten and meant every word.”

Killian sighed and the memory, clear regret clouding the blue as he started, “Aye, and you were well within reason to do so, considering - “ before she interrupted again tartly.

“I’m not finished, Captain! And I’ll thank you not to interrupt.” For just a second, a playful glow flickered in her deep, chocolate gaze, before her tone gentled slightly and her serious expression returned. “No, I wasn’t right to say that at all.” She spoke distinctly, her belief clear in every word. “I had not been told the truth, nor could I understand all that had happened to lead you down the path you took and set you on your course for revenge. Besides that, though you may not have been blameless, we all have done things we wish to take back, that in hindsight we would wish to erase if it were possible. We hardly saw eye-to-eye in our previous acquaintance, but I find now that there is hardly anyone I would trust more. Your heart was never truly Dark at its core, and I was wrong to think so. I would hate to see you deny yourself the same grace - particularly when everyone else has granted it long ago.”

For some time he struggled to respond to all that Belle had said. He could see that she meant every word, but it was harder to allow himself to believe it in turn. Too much loss, too many lifetimes of bitter loneliness made the light and love he enjoyed with each day in the present seem a dream from which he would yet have to wake. Struggling to force his voice through his throat tightening with emotion, he answered hoarsely. “You truly believe all that, lass? That others have forgiven me… and that I have gained a full measure of redemption?”

“Well,” Belle hedged, bright teasing in her eyes sparking and then flitting away, “probably not from Rumple,” she shrugged, “but he has issues of his own.”

A loud guffaw was startled from Killian’s chest at that, but when she continued, he could only blink away moisture in the corners of his eyes before it could fall and smile at her in gratitude.

Standing, Belle squeezed his shoulder with one small hand as she moved to round the counter and reopen the library doors. “But yes, Killian,” she whispered near his ear, “excepting that one dubious holdout, I really do.”

Warmth spread through him, all the way from his toes, and pleasantly expanded his chest. It was a feeling that actually succeeded in lightening the load he’d been carrying on his shoulders in a way little else he’d tried had been able to do. Perhaps he honestly did need to begin believing what his friend was saying. A lighterhearted grin than he had felt in some time crossed his face, leading into a laugh once more as Belle paused just short of unlocking the doors. “And Killian? Though I do want you to take my word on this, talk with Emma too. I know she wouldn’t want you carrying this alone. Let her be there for you - just like she’s always telling me you are for her.”

Killian nodded, promising he would do exactly that. Trust the brightest person he knew to have the simplest and most fitting advice.

** ~ ** ~ **

By the time he had finished his usual tasks at the library, been to the market, and ascertained that Henry was safely ensconced at the Charmings’ for the night, playing with his young uncle and seeking Mary Margaret’s advice on some school youth leadership project he hadn’t fully comprehended, Killian found it was nearing the time his lovely Swan would return home for dinner. Having done the shopping especially because he sought to have a homemade meal awaiting her, Killian hurried into the kitchen, intent on his task. Not only did he want to get her off her feet and treat her to a massage after a long day protecting and serving their crazy little town (neither he nor her father had been able to convince her to take her maternity leave a day before the two weeks to the due date recommended, despite the concerns he had voiced about a more mature pregnancy and their finances easily being able to allow for longer.) Killian hadn’t been about to call her an older expectant mother as Dave had done and wound up sporting blue hair for a night, nor did he even begin to think it wise to refer to it as a “geriatric pregnancy” as the OBGYN they’ve been seeing outside town had referred to it. He could feel Emma’s tension and the tighter squeeze of his hand every time the term was uttered, and he didn’t fancy a similar frustrated blast of magic from his wife. He would bet quite a few doubloons that their little one would be magic as well, merely by the fact that any spell Emma cast these days, accidentally or on purpose, seemed to pack double the punch. Regardless, even if he did wish his Swan would slow down a bit and take it easier on herself, he was wise enough to know he didn’t have much room to speak on that front. Like him, Emma seemed driven to work harder, to do all she could to somehow feel deserving of the happiness and belonging she now felt after hungering after it for so long. The least he could do was see her taken care of before he fully opened his heart and mind to share with her - as he should have done long ago.

Once Emma did arrive, Killian heard her call out a greeting even as the front door shut behind her, and he heard the two distinct thunks of her boots hitting the wall as she removed them and tossed them haphazardly toward the space where his own shoes were placed neatly.

After calling out that he was in the kitchen, he only had to wait a few more moments before Emma appeared in the arched doorway from the hall, a pleased smile stretching across her radiant face as she saw the salad and full bread basket already on the table, pasta sauce simmering merrily on the stove, and Killian just turned from draining pasta at the sink to greet her.

“Evening, Love,” he offered. “I hope you’re hungry, because everything’s ready for you.”

Emma’s brows arched at him, clearly wondering what had prompted such a feast, but she only moved toward her seat at the table, grateful affection on her face for him. “I can see that,” she teased gently.

Killian brought the last two dishes over and sat down across from his wife, seemingly drinking her in avidly, though they had only been parted for the hours of her work day. “Well, it’s the least I could do,” he quipped back.

Soon they were eating, words unneeded as the meal began and they enjoyed each other’s presence. Killian couldn’t help his anxious energy, knowing the conversation he needed to have with her, but he also found himself charmed all over again by her enthusiasm for the simplest things, digging into the garlic bread with gusto and savoring the fragrant red sauce, making what he called adorable “yummy” noises even as she shoveled another forkful. When she finally paused to swallow, Swan exclaimed, “Killian, seriously?! How are you such a good cook, along with everything else you’re ridiculously wonderful at? I would have ruined every bit of this - except maybe the salad - and it is all delicious. There’s nothing ‘the least’ about coming home to a spread like this after a long day.”

Reaching across the table to squeeze her hand, Killian attempted to hide the blush that rose on his cheeks at her compliments and gratitude. Saying only, “Let’s say then that it is nothing more than you deserve, Love. How’s that? And I am thrilled you are so enjoying the offering.” He couldn’t help marvelling that Belle’s reassurance of that morning had been echoed in Emma’s comments already, without her even knowing what was on his mind to share with her. It seemed unfathomable that his guiding light, his beautiful Swan, and his undisputed Savior could find him to be just the one she needed, could ever use the word wonderful to describe his skill or his person - and yet, she did. It was a healing, humbling gift, to say the least.

At length, they had finished eating and moved together to the cozy loveseat in their quiet living room once the table was cleared and the dishwasher loaded. They sat close together, but Emma did not immediately snuggle into his chest as she often did when they nestled there on evenings alone. It was probably just as well, Killian knew, as she could have easily distracted him with her mere proximity.

However, Emma seemed to read him just as well as he often did her, instead facing him and taking both his hand and hook in her own hands before whispering, “Now, Pirate, what’s on your mind? I can tell you have something you need to say, and I’m here. I’m listening. We understand each other, remember?”

Killian nodded and finally, slowly, but with a sense of true release, began to share what had been plaguing his thoughts: the sense of impending doom to counter his happiness, the dogged unworthiness he felt - of Henry, of her family, and especially her, the inadequacy he feared in being a good father, and more terrifying that any of the rest, the devastation her could not survive if anything were to happen to her or their unborn child. His hand, still joined with hers, came to rest easily on her rounded stomach with a protective, cradling touch, as his words haltingly came to an end.

They were both still, feeling for a movement beneath their fingers, and then meeting eyes in awe when the little one kicked in greeting. For one moment of time, despite all that had been troubling him, none of it could touch them and things were close to perfect.

Emma smiled at him, wide and beaming and like the sun breaking through clouds after a rain. Even the fact that she was also blinking back emotional tears couldn’t dim the look on her face. She raised the hand that held the shining curve of his hook, pressing the cool metal to her breast as she spoke emphatically, voice quavering but determined. Their joined hands over her stomach had not moved, and their little one responded with kicks and movement once more, as if to emphasize her mother’s words. “See how strong she is, Babe? Just feel her in there, excited to meet us! She is going to be fine.” Emma released her grip on his hook to cup his scruffy cheek in her palm and draw him closer, until their foreheads nearly touched. “I know that something could still go wrong; that certainly isn’t unheard of around here, and with all you and I have been through, I know it’s easy to start dreading when the good things will fall apart. All the same, I’m learning to have a little faith, to believe that some things are meant to be, and to have hope that miracles like our life together, and this little one, can happen. This place, my family, Henry… and you, Killian, have taught me that.”

“You’re right, of course, Love,” Killian managed to rasp after a few beats where he struggled to speak at all, completely overcome.

Emma leaned into his gentle ministrations for several moments as he pressed his lips to her forehead and used somewhat trembling fingers to brush tears from her cheeks. Both knew the tears were joyous ones, and neither of them were dry-eyed at this point, but he still couldn’t stop the gesture.

Looking back at him again, Emma finished her speech, knowing she had to get this last bit said as well. “You promised me once that you would always be by my side. And surely you know by now that I mean to do the same for you. Yes, there are some risks and uncertainties, but that’s life. You and I know that better than most. Still, I have no intention of going anywhere; I’m a survivor just as much as you are, Pirate.” She offered a crooked smile before pressing on. “Even if something were to go wrong, we can’t let it steal from the good moments we have now. If we aren’t enjoying these moments, then whatever future bad thing that might happen has already done its damage. Aye?”

This last pitiful attempt to mimic his accent made Killian release a chuckle and shake his head at her effort to soothe him, and to break the tension. She was right, naturally; he was tormenting himself over eventualities which might never come to pass.

“Aye, Love,” he murmured, “right you are.”

“And I know - I’ve seen proof of it, and I just know it in my heart - that you’re going to be a wonderful father to this baby. No matter what happens, you would never give up, because you would never leave her alone the way we both were. So let’s have no more talk of you not being able to survive… We both know better.”

Killian still couldn’t bear to imagine having to face life without her. He had been there, and he couldn’t stand to go back. Yet, he also felt and accepted the truth of her words deep in his soul. There was nothing else for it but to admit that Emma knew best. She fully relaxed against him as he pulled her close, her head resting over his heart as she snuggled into his side. “As you wish,” Killian conceded softly, running his hands through her hair.

A muffled, rather wet-sounding laugh came from Emma after several minutes, tickling against the bare skin at his unbuttoned collar. “You do realize you’ve now got me calling the baby a ‘she’ too, even though we agreed not to find out the gender. You know that, right?”

Killian laughed along with her, grateful to move into a happier moment, to imagine the joy when they met their new daughter and saw her for themselves, and to finally let himself feel more of the thrill and anticipation instead of the crippling doubt that had taken him over. Holding her closer still, he thrilled at the shiver of pleasure that ran through his wife’s frame as his lips brushed along her jaw to rumble in her ear, “I do realize that. And what a strong, brave, brilliant lass she’ll be too.”

Tagging a few who might also enjoy: @jennjenn615 @searchingwardrobes @kmomof4 @jrob64 @apiratewhopines

@whimsicallyenchantedrose @laschatzi @xarandomdreamx @booksteaandtoomuchtv @anmylica

@bluewildcatfanatic @jonesfandomfanatic @myfearless-love @lfh1226-linda @grimmswan

@motherkatereloyshipper @optomisticgirl @tiganasummertree @spartanguard @therooksshiningknight

#cs ff #fandom birthday gift fic #heart to hearts #cs oneshot #post s6 missing moment #snowbellewells

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